


Vrepit Sa Prima

by Kymopoleia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Galra! Pidge, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mild Gore, pidge and lance are gonna have a bad time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 07:30:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9982910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kymopoleia/pseuds/Kymopoleia
Summary: Keith wasn’t the best with words, but he was straightforward and simple. He got to the point, not as interested in making it flowery for anyone’s benefit, even his own.“Lance is the best shot I’ve ever seen.” Keith continued. “And Pidge is the fastest and most brilliant tech I’ve ever heard of. He’ll keep her safe and she’ll get what we need. They can do it.”Allura swallowed. “But then why couldn’t I send you?”“You know why. I’m the Black paladin, the only thing standing between Zarkon and the rest of the universe.” He offered a small smile. “I’m the only thing between Zarkon and you.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was going to be my big bang fic, but due to personal reasons and lack of interest and direction i dropped out of it. good luck to everyone else doing it!  
> hit me up on @spookyghostnerd or @lolirockin on tumblr, i do writing commissions!

Pidge’s heart was racing in her chest. She could barely keep up with her own fingers as they flew over the keyboard, adrenaline pumping and breath coming out in quick pants, unable to breathe properly since the gut punch she’d suffered a few hallways over when getting to the guard station.

Rewind a second, and explain how she got there.

The team was working its hardest to liberate planets, defund the empire, and free as many people as they could. With the dawn of the next stage though, the paladins had to step it up. So many people were believing in them and backing them and living in the castle, piloting fighter ships during times of duress, and supporting them, and building a community- no, a family.

Solo missions were out of the question, but Allura decided, with advice from Keith, Coran and Hunk, that they needed some new information. So, keeping Keith there to quell fears, especially in the wake of the lion hopping incident where Shiro retired and a new teammate moved to the blue lion, Keith to the black, and Lance to the red, she split them up into two teams. Hunk, Shiro, and the new teammate- a stunning purple alien going by Rowyna- left in blue, the most versatile lion. They were to liberate some more prisoners from a mining planet and steal some information on locations, blueprints, flight patterns, and any verbal recordings they could get their hands on.

Pidge and Lance took Green and left Red at home, going on a covert mission to the nearly-close permanent battle station the next system over. They were on the hunt for more specific things, details on quintessence distribution and manufacture, current mental maps for the droids and machines running the empire’s defense, and logs on cooperative planets versus ones with signs of revolt.

That mission led directly to this situation. Pidge had retrieved most of the information, barring of course some crucial details on quintessence that was sure to infuriate Allura but was mysteriously absent in the first place. Then she’d noticed a file while ghosting over the planetary logs, one titled ‘Earth’.

She hadn’t had enough time to dig due to the time crunch and Lance’s nervous shifting, but she saw it. Since joining the team and devoting herself to the cause, Pidge had picked up and learned altean and galran written and spoken language pretty well. It translated easily enough to English, but the addition of verb tenses and slang made it easier as well.

The subfolder was titled ‘Matt.holt’.

“Lance?” She whispered, glancing at him. “I think I- I need to- my family.”

Lance had picked it up as well, and nodded when he glanced at where she pointed. “Hurry, I think they’re tryna get up in front of the door.”

She nodded, letting adrenaline buzz out the rest of her hearing, and started hacking at the file and trying to break it free of the suspicious encryption and password protect.

Lance stepped away after a minute, bayard out and gripped in tight knuckles as his eyes stay on the doors. He’d blocked, barricaded, and burned that thing shut while Pidge got the data, but unfortunately the only other way out ended up being blocked. He’d checked it out, and the vent shaft had a huge rig of thick lasers that Pidge wouldn’t have time to hack through, and that he didn’t know how to deactivate. They were going to have to fight their way out, and it was currently looking pretty bleak.

Lance stepped over to the second monitor, the one deemed nearly immediately useless by girl-wonder over there, her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat and disbelieving smile breaking his heart. He tapped on the security camera outside, and felt his own heart jump to his throat at the realization that there were three… seven… carry the two….

He couldn’t count the number of galran droids outside the doors.

“Pidge?” He calls, frozen.

“I’m almost there Lance, just one second!” She replies, sounding honestly excited despite the grimness. “I think I have him! I’m almost there!”

“Pidge! Drop it!” He rushes back over to her. “Seriously, listen to me.”

Her fingers still, pinky hovering over the equivalent to the ‘enter’ button. “What.”

“There’s too many, and no way out. They’re about to get through that door, we have maybe 40 ticks before they break it down.” Lance rushes through his words, running together in his panic.

“W- what do we do?” She whispers.

“I- Fuck!” Lance covers his mouth with a hand, groaning. “I- wait I have an idea. Strip, quick!”

“What?” She yelped.

“Do the thing, the party trick! Not all the way, just to the flightsuit.” Lance clarifies, jogging to grab some armor pieces from the dead guard on the floor. “Hurry!”

Pidge blinked and flushed red, then mauve, then violet, and slowly let it take over. It hurt to suddenly have her body grow and shift colors, hurt the suit by the two inch height difference. Two meager inches. She also had to rip the helmet off, as well as her armor, and chuck them into the air vent.

“I can’t- what is this going to do? I know I look like them but they’ll never believe it!” She spits out, still terrified.

Lance shoves the belt into her hands and goes about pulling the shoulder pieces over her head. “Pretend like I kidnapped you and forced you to do it, maybe you can get out of it with a slap on the wrist and rescue me. Just do what you have to, I believe in you.”

Pidge clips the belt, hands him her bayard, and chokes back tears.

Lance lifts his bayard, grabs her upper arm, and presses the barrel of the rifle to her temple.

The squeal of metal in the background becomes unbearable, and then guards, galra and droid alike, spill into the room.

The actual events after that are a blur, but next thing Pidge knows, she’s being dragged away from Lance and being admonished for betraying the empire. Lance is being led away, hands locked in handcuffs and bayard taken from him. She tries to think, to say something, but nothing comes to mind except a mumbled “I had no choice” in English. The galra understood it, so why should she trouble herself to be more like them?

A few corridors later she’s being shoved into a cold room, and a pair of handcuffs clipped over her gloves. She notes their own bare hands, and swallows.

“What did you tell the parishke?” The guard in front of her asks, lips curling as he pronounces the term. She’s come to know it as the translation for Paladin, but she hadn’t heard it aloud before. Huh.

“I didn’t- I didn’t tell him anything.” Pidge swallows. “I swear. I, I really didn’t!”

“Then why did he keep you alive? The red one is the aggressive one. He didn’t just spare you for your looks!” The guard slams his hands on the wall. Pidge steps back half a step, shoulders shaking in anticipation of the coming hit.

“I don’t know, what they do doesn’t make sense to me, I just got caught up in this. I didn’t- I don’t- I’m sorry.”

A knee slams into her stomach this time, and she sinks to her knees, tears wetting the purple skin on her cheeks and hands coming up to cover her face.

“Get up, you look pathetic.” The second guard, who she hadn’t noticed before, grumbled. “Vaty, let her sit down. She’s so young, she’s not even mature yet.”

A fist grabs her by the scruff of her neck and hauls her into the seat, her nails scrabbling against anything they could bump into as she tried to stabilize herself.

“I didn’t know they were starting them that young.” The other guard laughs once, short and terse, moving in front of Pidge. “You, what’s your name? I don’t recall ever seeing you.”

“N-name?” Pidge coughed, mind racing for fake names. Then she remembered her real name, and swallowed. “A-ann.”

“Ahahn?” The guard asks.

“No, just one. Ann.”

“Ah, Ahn. Well, Ahn, I’m not going to hit you.” He gave the first, apparently named Vaty, a pointed look. “I’m the head of the west wing. You may know me as Supervisor Rayn. I find it hard to believe that I’ve never seen you before, where did you transfer from?”

Pidge swallowed. “The um… I…” She remembered a notation at the guard’s station about a shipment from Mrazus, an empirical hub of trade and apparent destination for soldiers. “The Rictyr, on its last stop here from M-mrazus. It was too much for me so I t-transferred here.” She was faking the sniffles for the most part, the barely-there headcold and swimming pain from two separate hits making them sound more real. “We… I… Didn’t think there’d be pa-pal-parishke here.” She stutters then corrects herself, shaking her head.

Rayn sighs and looks at Vaty. “Leave.”

He looks back at her and waits patiently until they’re alone. When they are, he sits across the table from her.

“Do you know what it tells me when I see faces as young and soft as yours? Ears that fluffy and eyes that bright?”

Pidge swallowed and sat up straight, ear twitching self consciously. “What? Sir?”

“That we’re truly losing.”

She stilled.

Rayn shook his head. “If we were succeeding, beating the terrorists back, we’d be fine. No new recruits beyond the usual. But young faces mean they’re winning, not minding that they’re slaughtering thousands.” He laughed bitterly. “You had a brush with death today. Vaty? His twins, they were taken from him by parishke.” Rayn clucks his tongue. “He’s furious. Why should they have died while you survive?”

Pidge squirmed. “I don’t know.” She whispers, finding it hard to lie, finding it hard to process the information. “He may have been planning to k-kill me.”

“No, he wasn’t. I saw it in the way he held his gun. He couldn’t have killed you. I’ll never understand them. But maybe you can.”

Pidge blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“You must be detained until we’re sure you won’t betray us again,” Rayn gestured at the handcuffs. “But we’ll let you out early if you do something simple. It’s dangerous, you could die, and you will not like it, but it’ll be better than dying in the vacuum of space.”

Pidge swallowed. She didn’t have her helmet, didn’t have her communicator, her bayard, couldn’t escape. “What?”

“Spy on the parishke for us. Stay in his cell with him, make friends, share body heat and culture and tales, I do not care.” Rayn waves his hand. “Then, if you can give us good information, we’ll let you go free.”

Pidge swallowed. They were offering to let her stay with Lance, and all she had to do was feed them fake information or lies to get more time. Holy crow!

“I’ll do it.”

“Just like that?” Rayn laughs. “You fond of them or something?”

“No! No, I…” Pidge swallowed. “Want to understand him. Want to know.”

Rayn hums. “Alright. Good enough. If you die in that cell, we won’t save you. You won’t have to fight, we don’t have an arena here, but we won’t put you to work either.”

Rayn stood abruptly. “Up. Come now.”

She’s led out of the room and down the hallway, the pace slow in comparison to the rush on the way. It might have been out of consideration for her injuries, but Pidge suspected it was really for the other’s benefit.

They didn’t speak as they went through innumerable hallways, the violet glow soaking into her skin and causing her nose to wrinkle up in disgust. It was bad enough that she looked like them, now she also had to deal with pretending to be them until she and Lance or, as it was beginning to look at this point, rescued. She held her breath when they passed others, fearing whistleblowers and concern for her apparently young face. Yes, she was nineteen, but it wasn’t like they were actually carding her at a club or something. Age and war didn’t mix, they coexisted, and trying to process the encounter was taking all of her mental power.

Pidge only begins to recognize things again when they come to a wide room with large glass walls at regular intervals. Even if she hadn’t pointedly noticed the room on the blueprints, she’d have been able to realize that it was the ship’s jail.

“Welcome to the brig, Ahn.” Rayn offers a tense smile, gesturing with his right hand, a long scar running down his wrist and curving until it fit into the lines of his palm seamlessly. She didn’t know how she could have ignored the lilac area since it was so obvious, but she blinks and shifts her gaze to where he was pointing. There was suspicious dark stains and feathers, scales, beads, and cloth around a drain in the lowered center of the open area, and lining the area was thin columns seemingly decorated with regular glowing rings. “If this is your first time here, then I’m sorry it’s under such circumstances. If it isn’t, then you’ll appreciate my and Vaty’s anger against the parishke soon enough, and will surely be aching to tell us everything you learn.”

Pidge spared his shoulder a glance, unable to meet his eyes. She was good enough at lying usually, but this situation hadn’t offered any opportunity to prepare. She was flying blind.

Rayn led her to the back wall, directly through the muck. The stench made her gag, and the realization that she was crossing through blood, clothing, and other bits that had been presumably beaten or torn from inmates.

She felt her shoe squelch and the wave of nausea led her to gag, hands lifting to her mouth.

The Supervisor laughed. “They had fun with the parishke, truly doing Primus’ work.” He shook his head, smiling and laughing softly.

Pidge’s mouth fell open and her eyebrows scrunched up. “I- what did you say?”

“Hm? Are you deaf, cub?”

Pidge shook her head. They had reached the ring of columns now, only a few feet from the glass cells. “No… no sir.” It still felt wrong to be calling him sir, despite the amount of times she had done it and what was riding on it.

“The other guards beat the parishke, I made a comment about Lord Zarkon and assumed he’d be pleased with it.”

Pidge blinked. “And that word you used, Primus?”

“Yes, it’s an old word. We don’t use it much anymore, but it means emperor.”

Pidge’s lips parted and she blinked at him. The glass of the cell slid upwards with a click.

“In, and when you get out I’m taking you drinking and teaching you some culture.” He makes a sort of churr as he rolled his eyes, shoving at her shoulder until she was inside. Then it closed and she was aware of the soft breathing behind her.

Pidge turned slowly, the handcuffs deactivating and sliding to the floor, only to be swallowed as part of the floor accepted it. She noticed the two pallet beds on the floor, the oddly shaped area in the corner that she assumed had water and a toilet, and then the drain on the floor and the heap of black fabric, brown skin, purple bruises and reddish black blood curled next to it.

She dropped to her knees and breathed in sharply, cupping Lance’s face in her hands as tears sprang to her eyes. “Lance, Lance?” She gasped, forgetting that they were on camera, forgetting that she needed to pretend to hate him, forgetting the other galra likely still on the other side of the glass. “Oh, what happened to you?”

He coughed, shoulders shaking weakly as his eyes fluttered and struggled to open. His lips were cut, his flightsuit torn, and any hint of white armor missing. He was barely decent and soaked in quickly congealing blood, flakes of muck from outside stuck to him. “Are you-“ He coughed again, ragged and wet. “O-kay?”

Pidge trailed her fingers over his chest as she checked, but each laceration had been burnt closed and no fresh bleeding was evident. “I’m fine, are you?”

Lance laughed weakly, relaxing slowly on the floor. “No.”

Pidge shed the armor on her shoulders and ran her bloodied nails, elongated from the shapeshifting, through her short hair. “I’m so sorry. They- they took me a different way, and I didn’t- I couldn’t- I couldn’t fix this this. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t talk my way out of it. I was just so tired and hurting and scared, I can’t believe,” She sobbed, chest heaving and flightsuit too tight.

“Shh… Don’t blame you.” Lance waves a hand at her, it wobbling as he strained likely screaming muscles in an attempt to comfort her. “We’ll get out of this. We always do.”

-

Allura chewed on her bracelet as waited for news. “Oh, why did I think this was a good idea? A whole ship of volunteers, and I send off five of my paladins for covert missions. Stupid, stupid, stupid!” She swallowed, pulling it away from her mouth and instead beginning to tap rhythmically on the smooth white control panel, taking care not to affect or activate it. “Why didn’t you talk me out of it?”

Keith had been listening to her babbling for nearly an hour- or the closest tick equivalent, since he and the others had long since accepted the time method the rest of the universe ran on.

“Maybe because I thought it was a good idea?” He offered. “I mean, the recruits are lining up at the door to take jobs for us,”

“What? What are they doing at the door?” Allura interrupted, blinking and bringing up the footage for outside the room.

“Allura, it’s just an expression.” He stepped away from the column he’d been warming by leaning on it. “Calm down.”

She took a deep breath, frowning at him. “I really don’t think calming down is a good idea.”

“Then step away from the battle station, and settle down.”

Allura glanced down at herself, noting her earlier paranoid change to the flightsuit and armor. She sighed and stepped back, letting them power down to idle. “Fine. What now?”

“Come over here and sit down.” Keith gestured at the array of seating, usually reserved for manning guns and progress screens but currently empty and powered down. “And talk to me.”

Allura nodded and headed for them, boots clinking against the floor methodically, purposefully. Her lips moved with each step, counting them and breathing periodically.

Keith sat down at the seat to the right when she made it, turning to face her and let their knees brush. She let one palm rest flat on the desk, the other falling to curl on her knee and press her fingertips to his.

“You didn’t make a mistake. In sending them, in keeping me here, any of it.” Keith began slowly, letting the air around them settle. Allura nodded slowly, lips pressed together.

“Hunk, Wyn, and Shiro can handle that planet. Hunk and Wyn can rescue prisoners, Shiro can get and save the files we need. They’re strong, smart, and capable, and when they get back they’re going to give you the biggest hugs and when we eat dinner it’ll be relaxing, and you’ll be okay.”

Keith wasn’t the best with words, but he was straightforward and simple. He got to the point, not as interested in making it flowery for anyone’s benefit, even his own.

“Lance is the best shot I’ve ever seen.” Keith continued. “And Pidge is the fastest and most brilliant tech I’ve ever heard of. He’ll keep her safe and she’ll get what we need. They can do it.”

Allura swallowed. “But then why couldn’t I send you?”

“You know why. I’m the Black paladin, the only thing standing between Zarkon and the rest of the universe.” He offered a small smile. “I’m the only thing between Zarkon and you.”

Allura breathed out slowly, reaching for his hand. He took it, and they sat silently for a few minutes, just letting his words sink in and the mood soften.

Allura closed her eyes, sighing. “Okay.”

Keith squeezed her hand gently, letting his hand warm up her cooler skin. “Alright.”

“I’m fine.”

Keith nodded. “You will be, when they come home.”

The screen buzzed with static and came to life before them.

“-rincess? Princess Allura?”

She stood, their fingers slipping apart like a promise to the back of its keeper’s mind, her eyes on the screen and posture grave. “Yes?”

It was Hunk’s laugh that came next, but Wyn’s face they saw through the camera. “Oh good, we were having some trouble connecting.” She smiled, relieved. “Tell Ch’kinnah to fix the comms when we get back, Blue’s got some damaged wiring.”

Allura nodded. “Yes. Did it go as planned? Are the prisoners saved, the information collected?”

“Yes,” Wyn nodded. “Takashi got the data and Hunk got the prisoners and I got to kick some supreme ass!” She whooped, attitude and enthusiasm infectious. “Did I say that right?” She glanced back at Hunk, presumably, for confirmation, and received a fresh high five.

Keith stood as well. “Good. Did the practice help?”

“Yes, I am much better with my bayard.” Wyn nodded. She’d had the hardest time adjusting to hand-to-hand combat, and Keith had spent many hours off the clock training and practicing and bonding with her. Even Shiro was impressed with his focus and attentiveness, and Shiro had been worried over the burden of leadership in the beginning.

Keith listened as the blue paladin gave her briefing mid-flight, listing details perfectly to be recorded. She had an impossibly vivid memory, but it faded quickly as other things took her interest. She had to focus hard for recall, but he supposed the heightened senses and four eyes helped.

Keith stepped away to grab his bottle of water and sip, letting the talking fade to background noise. So one group was safe, more prisoners rescued, and information received. Now all they were waiting for was Lance, notorious for poor timing and caring too much, and Pidge, who would sacrifice the galaxy for her family if she found even a hair that could have been theirs. He wouldn’t let his concern and anxiety get in the way of his duty though, so he returned to Allura and let the backs of their hands brush. Anything to let her know that he was there for her.

-

“Dad?”

Sam Holt half turned to see six-year-old Matt in his pajamas, holding his two-year-old sister’s hand. Katie was sobbing and swirled purple and peach, one ear fluffy and erect and the other the cute shell shape humans had. Matt himself was beginning to flush violet with distress, but his father quickly pulled the crying toddler into his arms.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” He comforted her, bouncing her up and down gently to ease her. “Shh… shh... it’s okay.” He started rubbing her back and arms, then pinching her cheeks and petting her ears. “It’s fine. We’re fine. You’re alright. It’s perfectly normal to just get stuck.”

Matt reached up to rub her ankles and calf, the soft skin still fat and full. By now the wails had quieted to a soft whimper, and even that was shifting to a giggle.

As she relaxed her color faded back to peach, the ears going back to the same placement and shape and her face flushed with tears and laughter as she became overwhelmed with laughter as he bopped and tapped and patted her.

“See? That’s a good girl.” Sam Holt smiled lovingly. “Good camelon.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, eyes shutting again.

“End simulation.”

He wasn’t holding anything at all.


End file.
